Write What You Know
by CattyJen
Summary: AU GaaSaku. Just some silly little entries from Gaara's journal during the THINGS WE KNOW time period. Rated M for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, these are just a series of Gaara's journal entries from the TWK time line. I want to make one to parallel each TWK chapter. We'll see. They're short so I'm hoping to update every time I update PWK, but nothing is for sure.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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September 7 First period**_

I found a fascinating rock on my way to school this morning. I picked it up and decided to keep it as a paperweight for when I'm writing outside. It's that steely shade of grey that almost looks blue. It reminds me of nimbostratus clouds and smells like rain. I close my fist around it in my pocket and I imagine my own heart made of stone.

I've always wondered why people say that like it's a bad thing. If our hearts were made of stone they'd never break. We would never have to die. Just because your heart is made of stone doesn't mean you don't have feelings. That's a separate organ and body system all together. Maybe if your brain were made of stone or if your skin were made of stone, _then_ you couldn't feel pleasure or pain. You couldn't feel warmth.

I am cold. I am always cold.

It's only autumn but I'm already freezing. I rub my hands together and I try waking them with my breath but my breath is cold too. I _am_ the cold.

I need a cigarette.

_**Third period**_

I'm in English class. I have a pounding headache. I think a fat person is playing a gong inside my head. I have a feeling it's because I haven't eaten since yesterday morning. It's not a gong it's a dinner bell. It's in sync with my stomach growling.

Guy is quite the animated teacher. Usually I find his energy to be tiresome but as of lately it's been comforting. Here is a man who comes in everyday, rain or shine, and tries to share something he loves with the next generation of writers. I wished I had figured out this essence before. It makes me feel guilty for what I did to Lee.

Guy is assigning a yearlong assignment. It's a partners project so I can't really see myself working on it. I don't do partners.

Basically, we're supposed to read a book from cover to cover and then pick up where the author left off at the end of the story. It doesn't sound too difficult. Actually, it almost sounds enjoyable. Imagine being able to bend a story into your own liking. You can fix the mistakes in the original and connect with the author. You take your own novelty and blend with the author's style. It's an exploration but not without parameters. You cannot change the souls of the characters. You can fill in the blanks in their histories and map out their futures but you have to remember that characters of fiction live and breathe just like you and me.

God have mercy. I've been paired with the queen bee herself.

She's staring at me now. I imagine that she's quite horrified. Guy must be punishing her for giving Lee the cold shoulder. I'm almost interested in seeing how she handles it. I don't know what disgusts her more, the prospect of failing or the prospect of having to talk to me.

I had a dream about her weeks ago. It took place ten years from now. Sakura Haruno was begging me to go out on a date with her. The odds of that ever happening are a googolplex to one. The same goes for that… _pleasurable_ dream I had about her in the eighth grade. I was haunted for weeks by that dream. I'm struggling not to think about it now.

I remember Temari telling me when I was six years old that if I wasn't quiet at night a man with an axe would break out of the dream world and cut me into little pieces and then set me on fire. The same went for spending to long in the bathroom. A man would climb up from the toilet and beat me to death with an iron plunger. Or toxic gasses would seep out of the shower drain and melt my heart and lungs so I bled out from every orifice of my body. If I ate too much at dinner my food would turn to radon in my stomach and I would get cancer and die. If I touched anything that belonged to her my hands would explode.

Class is over. Not a moment too soon. I don't like where my mind was going with that one.

**Fourth period**

So Haruno cornered me after the bell rang. It would seem that she cares more about her schoolwork than she does her own comfort. That is certainly interesting.

Her mouth said that she wants to work with me but her eyes said just the opposite. They made if perfectly clear that she doesn't want to be within a five-foot radius of me.

"What can I help you with, Haruno?" I asked her.

"Um like, when do you want to work on our project?" she asked in a high girlish voice. "I like _love_ school… a lot. I'm a super busy and important person so I don't have time to work on it when you're free. We have to do it according to my cute little schedule."

"I'll try to facilitate your schedule anyway I can." I answered politely.

"Yes." Haruno cackled manically. "I demand that you meet me on Thursday."

"I apologize," I smiled gently. "But I have work on that particular day. Perhaps another time?"

Haruno snarled. "Fuck you. What day _can_ you meet me?"

I put my hand on my chin and contemplated the issue. "Well I'm not working this spring. Would it be alright if we postponed working until then?"

"No!" Haruno screeched. "I'm not working in the spring," she mimicked hatefully. "No! If you don't do as I say right now I'm going to poke your eyes out with my mechanical pencil." I looked down and saw that she had a pencil in her clenched fist. She shook it menacingly. "So what will it be, asshole? Will you do what I say or face the consequences of defying me?"

I swallowed my fear. "Please, Haruno, I don't want to start any trouble. Perhaps it would be best if you worked on the project by yourself for a while and then forwarded me your work later in the season so I can contribute as well?"

Haruno furiously attempted to stab me with her pencil but I ducked just in time. "How _dare_ you tell me what to do?" she growled like a mad dog. "Face my wrath!"

"Maybe we can discuss this again when you've calmed down." I took a few steps backwards preparing myself to flee into the hallway. I bowed my head. "Until then, please feel better."

"You dirty bastard!" she hurled the pencil at me. "Come back here so I can stomp on your testicles! Fear me! Fear me!"

I was able to get to my next class without any more trouble but I was still quite shaken by our encounter. Thankfully, we didn't have math together so I didn't have to worry about her continuing her assault. I'm lucky to be alive.

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**I have actually a couple of these written from when I wrote the original story. I wanted to post them on my livejournal, but the thing with that is, I don't actually know how to work livejournal. I made one a while ago and I've recently started using it because my therapist wants me to keep a journal, and I figured, why not a journal that strangers can read? I like the idea of strangers trying to understand me through silly little entries. Anyways. I'll put my link on my homepage so everyone can friend me because I don't have any friends yet. I don't actually know what a friend does or how to make them on the website but I know that more friends is good. I think. ANYWAYS. **

**THanks for reading! Leave a review ^_^**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Naruto. **

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September 23

It occurred to me today that I am an Oompa-Loompa. Aren't they the ones who toil day in and day out making chocolate for bratty children who chew with their mouths open? They are my brethren.

Some middle schoolers came into the shop today. The drone that usually works the register called in sick (spent the entire night partying with the rest of the hive), so I was forced to deal with a gaggle thirteen year old girls. They were all wearing variations of the same outfit: micro mini denim cutoffs and skintight tank tops that make me genuinely uncomfortable looking at them or talking to them. Their leader seemed to be the girl with thick glossy red lips and glittering braces.

"Do you like… you know…" started the girl.

"Sell chocolate?" I offered.

The girl giggled demurely and her fingers moved to curl the short strands of hair on the nape of her neck falling from her ponytail. "No, silly." She shared a look with the bespectacled girl to her left and the tall bony girl to her right. They all seemed to be laughing at a private joke.

To say that I was irked would not be lying. There is a reason why I wasn't hired to be a cashier. I don't understand girls. I don't want to understand girls. I especially don't want to understand _these_ girls.

"Either buy something or fuck off." I told them callously.

The girl with the purple-rimmed glasses cleared her throat. "We were just wondering what _your_ favorite chocolate is."

I don't understand why she would even ask me that question. My preference in junk food is no more useful information to her than Yoda's preference in toilet paper ply. Who ever said that I even like sweets?

I tried to hide my confusion. "I like chocolate chips." I told the girls, hoping that they would be satisfied with this response and move on to other shops to bother other workers.

"Oh, really?" asked the girl with braces. She pulled the tie from her hair and shook loose a cascade of thick chestnut curls. The other girls seemed to take this as their cue to also alter their appearances. The girl with glasses stuck her flat chest out as if she were showing off a shiny badge and the tall girl adjusted the hem of her shirt so I could get a peek at her silver bellybutton ring. (Bellybutton rings? What is the point of bellybutton rings?)

I scowled at them. "Yes, really." I said.

The girl with braces leaned in a across the counter and batted her eye lashes. "Do you like kisses?" she whispered.

Idiots. "We don't sell _Hershey's_ here." Couldn't theses morons see that this was all homemade chocolate?

"Have you been to jail?" asked the tall girl.

"Is it true that you've killed a man?" asked the girl with the glasses.

"Are you on drugs?" asked the girl with the braces.

What. The. Hell. Were they writing a newspaper article or something? Why did any of that information pertain to them? "Yes, I killed a man in jail when I was on drugs." I told them sarcastically.

All three girls gasped in tandem. "That's not sexy at all," squeaked the girl with the braces.

Sexy? What were these girls even talking about? Who said anything about sexiness? "Are you going to buy something?" I asked them, trying to be patient.

The three girls stood with arms akimbo and sneers on their faces. "Not from you," said the girl with the glasses snottily.

"Come on girls," said the girl with the braces. "We're out of here."

Good riddance. I tore off the pink apron my boss made me wear and stuffed it into the garbage can. I will _never_ allow myself to be forced into working the register again.

October 10

The book Sakura Haruno gave me isn't as dreadful as I anticipated it would be and it didn't take me long to read. The story was almost interesting.

I have resolved to do the project. If I start now I will probably be able to have it finished by the end of the week. I've been thinking about potential characters and potential plots all day.

I wish I could do this with my own life. I wish I could just put my pen to paper and change my life story. Although, if I were given the chance I think I would be perplexed as to how to use it. What plot holes need to be filled in my own life? Am I missing any important characters? Could I give myself a happy ending? I don't even know what a happy ending looks like much less how to write one.

But I don't believe in sugarcoating the truth and I don't want to be unoriginal.

I wonder what kind of ending Sakura Haruno would want to give me. I wonder what she would write if she was in charge of my destiny. She would probably have me drop dead so she wouldn't have to worry about working with me. The gall of this girl astounds me. She is grossly unattractive but she acts like some sort of beauty queen. She quite clearly hates me but she expects me to still do the project with her. What kind of lunacy is that?

It's settled then. I'll do the project and then never have to speak to her again.

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**Thanks for reading! Thanks for reviewing! I LOVE my readerssssss. Let me know if there is something specific you would like to see in Gaara's journal ? **


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